Connor Hunt and the Dark Detectors
by ThisBedCouldUseASecret
Summary: It's Connor Hunt's first year at Hogwarts, and things are more or less normal. But when people start calling Connor Hunt the new Harry Potter, will things snowball out of control?


**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything that has to do with Harry Potter.

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On a warm evening in the middle of August, a small house just along the outskirts of London, lay completely motionless. The curtains were drawn and the blinds were pulled down. No light emanated from the house and it appeared that there were no current residents. The only clue that there was life inside of the house was the small stack of smoke seen coming out of the chimney. There was no car in the driveway. Ivy had grown all over the house and bushes needed to be trimmed. Shutters were hanging on by their last nail. One sturdy gust of wind would rip the shutters off of the house for good. The tin mailbox was dented, along with the wooden post it stood on. Mail rarely arrived at the house. Children believed the house to be haunted. Dogs growled and barked at it during the night. Nothing ever drew anyone out of that home. No one ever saw anyone coming or going. It just appeared to be empty.

Inside the house, in front of a small brick fireplace, sat a mother and her son. The only sound that could be heard was the faint crackling of the fire. Every now and then a spark or two would fall out and touch the stone floor, turning into ash within a couple of seconds. There was no exchange of words between mother and son. Each sported the same look of dire desperation and fear. Any sound coming from outside caused both to jump. If a stranger viewed the scene, they would call the pair paranoid, or perhaps ship them to an asylum.

There wasn't any other kind of movement within the house. Shadows of the two danced playfully along the wall, shrinking and growing simultaneously. The mother dozed off every few minutes, only waking abruptly with wide searching eyes. The boy just sat as still as stone, his eyes never leaving the burning fire. Amber and gold flames were reflected in his small eyes, completely blank and empty. The two just didn't look real. They were more along the lines of wax museum figures in an old run-down house.

The silence continued endlessly, the tension unbearable. The boy was growing restless. His hands twitched with irritation, desperately wanting to find something to entertain himself with. The mother didn't notice. She seemed to worn, too tired, to even notice her son's presence. The boy couldn't take it any longer. He looked towards his mother, and stood up off of the floor. The room was scarcely decorated. There was a shabby sofa in one corner of the room, and a small wooden rocking chair in the other. The stone floor was covered by two rugs, that had holes the size of galleons all over them.

The boy walked over to the rocking chair, and carefully sat upon it, his eyes never leaving his mother's tiny figure. He gently eased himself into the wooden seat, and slowly rocked. Each time his feet bounced off of the ground, a small squeak would sound, echoing throughout the room. The boy continued the motion several times, before growing tired of it. He settled on leaning his head against the back of the chair, and closing his eyes, much like his mother was doing.

The mother and son stayed like that for several hours, drifting in and out of sleep, always waking up in a panicked state. Then a noise sounded against the window, that broke the pattern.

"Connor, don't leave your seat." The woman whispered firmly, as she shut her eyes tight. The boy, Connor, nodded his head, and looked down at the ground. The noise repeated itself, and Connor squirmed against the rocking chair.

"Mother…" He started, his voice weak and hoarse from not using it.

"If we ignore it, it'll go away." Connor simply nodded his head, and obeyed his mother, not daring to move.

The noise, however, sounded once more, a stronger rapping sound against the window.

The woman couldn't take it any longer. She clenched her fists by her side, and stood up quickly. The motion startled the boy, and his eyes turned fearful.

"Mother?" He asked, his voice breaking slightly as he said the last syllable.

"It'll be okay, Connor. I promise…" She whispered silently, sending her son a small smile, in hopes to reassure him. The woman walked over to the window and bit down on her lip. It looked like she was trying to make a decision of some sort. Her hands, wrinkled from old age, and calloused from wear, reached out to the curtains. Slowly, she drew them back, carefully tying each one to the side of the window. With the same pace, she opened the blinds, revealing an old tawny brown barn owl. A silent sigh of relief was released by the mother, and she unlocked the window to allow the owl entry.

The owl, magnificent in all of its glory, swooped down into the poorly lit home, and flew directly to the little boy. It dropped off a letter in his lap, before flying out the same way it came in. The woman wasted no time in shutting the window, locking it, and returning it to it's proper condition.

The boy looked down at his letter, his soft sandy blonde hair falling into his face. He looked from his mother, to the letter, then repeated the action, as if to make sure the letter was safe. His mother only nodded at him, and went to stand behind her son. Her wobbly legs carried her to Connor's side, and she stood silently, waiting patiently.

Connor opened the letter, unfolded it, and beamed at what he found.

"Mother!" He exclaimed, his voice the most excited it had been in a long time. "It's a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Blimey, I've been accepted there!"

With a confused expression, the woman gently took the letter out of the boy's hand, and read it carefully. Her face too lit up in a smile.

"Connor, dear, that's wonderful!" The mother embraced her son's skinny body, and squeezed him tightly to her chest. "I'm so proud of you." She whispered into his ear, a tear making its way down her cheek.

"Mother, don't cry." Connor looked bewildered, and wiped the tear away from his mother's face. "Isn't this something to be happy about?" He asked, his head tilted.

"I am happy. You're father…" She couldn't finish the rest. Her eyes filled up with more tears before she turned around and entered the kitchen.

"I think this calls for a celebration of sorts, doesn't it?"

"Yes, mother." Connor stated, his smile finding its way back up to his face.

The mother opened a cabinet, pulled out a box, and poured it into a plastic bowl. She reached into the refrigerator, took out milk and eggs, and poured them into the bowl as well. Stirring, she busied herself with baking a cake, so she wouldn't think about her husband.

While the cake was in the oven, a knock on the door sent the two in a new state of panic.

"Connor, you look after the cake, alright?" The woman asked, wiping her hands on her dirty pair of pants. The boy nodded slowly, and lines of worry formed on his face.

"I'm sure it's nothing, dear." She added, walking briskly over to the door that hadn't been used in so long. As soon as she opened it, the woman regretted it. There standing in front of her was a famous black haired wizard, and his companion. She made a move to shut the door, but the two were too fast, and stepped forward, preventing her from moving.

"Connor…" The woman whispered softly, her voice full of desperation.

"Yes mother?" The boy walked to the door, his eyebrows arched in curiosity.

"Oh Connor!" The woman burst out in tears, grabbing the boy for the second time that day, and pulling him to her chest.

"Mother, what's going on?" His voice was laced with terror, as the two wizards walked into his house and shut the door behind them.

"I presume you are Mrs. Hunt?" The red haired wizard asked firmly, eyeing the crying woman before him.

There came no spoken reply from her, merely a nod of her head.

"Then you know why we're here, right?" The black haired wizard asked in a much gentler tone.

"Yes." Came the muffled reply, as the mother let her son go.

"Mother! What's wrong?!" Connor asked desperately, tears brimming up in his own eyes.

"Connor, go upstairs and pack your things, alright?"

With tears still in his eyes, the little boy obliged, and scampered up the stairs quickly, to avoid upsetting his mother further.

"Mrs. Hunt, we are sorry we have to do this." The black haired man stated. "I'm Harry Potter, and this is Auror Ron Weasley."

The woman took a seat on a wooden chair, and nodded, her eyes red and puffy.

"You're husband, Nathaniel Hunt, has been found." The spoken words made the woman sob even harder.

"He has been sent to Azkaban. We just need you to identify him for us. After that, you will be put under my supervision in order to keep you safe." Ron Weasley spoke firmly, but his tone was a bit less harsh than the first time he spoke to her.

"Where was he?" She didn't know if she wanted an answer or not.

"He was found in Hogsmeade, in the Death Eater Headquarters."

The woman nodded her head, and let the tears fall from her freely. Twenty-five years the couple had been married, and not once had she thought her husband was a death eater. The signs were there at times, but she would always shove her suspicions aside. Surely a death eater wasn't capable of love. And love was what the two had. At least, that was what the woman believed. Even when they made love, she never noticed the mark on his arm. That was mainly because she was a muggle. She thought the skull was just a strange tattoo that he had received in his teenage years.

"Mrs. Hunt, I assure you that everything will be alright. We will make sure that you and you're son are well cared for." Harry Potter spoke, resting a gentle arm on the woman's shoulder.

"Thank you." She smiled at him in appreciation, noting his Hogwarts robes. With a small sniffle, the woman cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow. "Y-you're the headmaster?"

The man only smiled and nodded at her.

Clunking from the stairs made everyone's attention turn to Connor.

"I got everything, Mother." He said softly, his eyes lowered.

"That's my baby." She cooed to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Are we all set to leave?" Ron asked, looking over everyone.

A mumble of consents left their lips, and before they knew it, they had apparated to the Ministry of Magic.

"Go on up to the fourteenth floor. There will be a room with Ron Weasley's name on it. Just go in there, and you will find two beds. Make yourselves at home. Just owl if you need anything." Harry said to the mother and son. He led them to the elevator, and hit the buttons for them. Ron followed, and sighed softly.

"We'll call for you in the morning. Goodnight."

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Please read and write a review. I love feedback. : )

- Sadie


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